


Prudentia

by gnostic_heretic



Series: Catholic School AU [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Catholic School, Family Drama, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining, Teenage Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 16:36:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12391941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gnostic_heretic/pseuds/gnostic_heretic
Summary: All he could remember of his dream was the dim sunlight, that made the chapel's stained glass windows seem almost alive; the familiar, majestic marble statue of Mary behind the altar and her cold, fixed gaze on his back; the warm feeling of a kiss.He could only remember this- but knew instantly what his mind was trying to recall.





	1. I.

> _Do I dare_
> 
> _Disturb the universe?_
> 
> _In a minute there is time_
> 
> _For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse._
> 
>  
> 
> _For I have known them all already, known them all:_
> 
> _Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,_
> 
> _I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;_
> 
> _I know the voices dying with a dying fall_
> 
> _Beneath the music from a farther room._
> 
> _So how should I presume?_
> 
>  
> 
> _-T.S. Eliot, The Love Song of J.Alfred Prufrock_

 

"Her name is Natalia."

 

In just one moment, Feliks felt the floor crumble under his feet, and the warm feeling of anticipation and anxiety he had been building up turned into an impossibly heavy weight in his stomach, like he had been swallowing rocks every day for the past few years.

If there was one thing he hated, it was the way just a few words could make him feel like this.

And despite the fact that everyone who knew them thought that he was the one being "bossy" with Toris, they were not aware of the many little adjustments Feliks made just so that his best friend would not hate him. If Toris told him that yellow didn't flatter him, he stopped wearing yellow. When they were younger, after his mother managed to finally get Feliks to get a haircut, Toris told him that his hair looked better long; and so he kept it at shoulder length, the most that the strict dress code of St Paul high school would allow. Toris told him he was his best friend; and so Feliks kept his crush on him a secret, desperately buried under the familiar armor of "Toris' best friend"; because it was easy to do so, and because the idea of Toris rejecting him, leaving him was so scary that he would rather spend his whole life waiting for him, even in vain. But just a few words were enough for the cracks in the armor to deepen, and for his heartbeat to become painful, almost unbearable.

  


It took all of his acting talent to collect himself and _act natural oh god act natural_. He leaned on the desk, closer to his best friend's face. He attempted a smile.

 

"Is that so? I don't think I know her. Where did you guys meet?"

 

Crap, did that sound the _opposite of natural_! He could hear his own voice cracking. And the way that heavy feeling in his gut found his way to his mouth and made every word harsh, almost aggressive, his smile crooked. No good. Like all those years in drama club, ultimately, had taught him nothing.

He hoped that Toris wouldn't notice, but he was always good at picking up these small clues; some days Feliks wondered if the guy had, like, mind reading powers or something.

 

Then Toris looked at him, and he was _smiling_ , like he genuinely had no clue what was going on; he announced, with the stupidest giggle on his face, that yes, there was indeed no way Feliks could know her because she was a med student, at a prestigious university in the city. They met at the library, and Feliks thought to himself, of _course_ that was the place he would meet someone because _duh_ , it was the only place where Toris ever spent his time at with the exception of his own house and school, at least when he wasn't with him.

 

That day, at the end of the last period, Toris told him and Elizabeta that he couldn't hang out, because he was going to study at the library; and while it wasn't unusual of him to begin studying for a test weeks before the test _actually_ happened, his face gave away the real reason he was so eager to spend his afternoon nose-deep in his algebra books.

Elizabeta gave him a knowing look and a strong slap on his shoulder before wishing him good luck for his studying, waving goodbye.

 

"Hey Fel, can you believe this?" she asked as soon as Toris walked out of the door, with a wide grin and a hit of her elbow right on Feliks' ribs and ouch, that actually hurt.

"I don't know, can you?"

Feliks tried really hard to sound not pissed off. He failed. Maybe he wasn't that good of an actor, after all- or maybe, his emotions were just getting in the way; strangely enough Elizabeta, unlike Toris, noticed that something was off.

"Oh, come on Fel, he has a crush for the first time in his life! I can't believe we had to wait eighteen years for this to happen!" There was a pause, and she seemed to have a sudden realization. "Wait, don't tell me... are you jealous?"

The lack of a response was all she needed to know, apparently.

"No way! What, is it because he won't follow you around everywhere anymore? It's not like he can't have a best friend, if he gets a girlfriend. Come on Fel, you knew this was going to happen eventually... you'll just have to get used to it."

It's not that he didn't _know_ , but he was just so used to Toris insisting on not being interested in a relationship, or romance in general, that this sudden change of mind, this love at first sight was suspiciously abrupt. For all this time, the idea of him ever dating someone just seemed like a far-off possibility and now he realized he had severely underestimated it.

Also, there were things that Elizabeta just _didn't know_.

 

"Hey Liz, cut it out... y'know, I don't feel like going out either today, sorry."

Feliks realized that he was probably being too harsh, but he really didn't feel like getting a lecture about his selfishness and excessive attachment to his best friend, and so on. Despite the fact that he was clearly dreading this conversation, Elizabeta gave him her knowing grin, too.

_What the hell? What was she smiling for?_

"Wait, wait, wait, Fel... don't tell me... you're dumping me because you're going to see the guy who kissed you last week?"

Ouch, that hit a nerve.  Again.

He quickly dismissed his friend, saying he just wasn't feeling well.

"And by the way," he blurted out spitefully, without thinking, "it didn't work out. Seems he actually likes someone else, after all."

Oh, shit! That was too much information, because he could never hold his mouth shut and _oh god_ now she was going to understand everything, when suddenly... she just let him go with a hug, one of her crushing hugs that felt even tighter than usual.

"Oh, Fel! Is that why you were feeling down? Well, it just means that the guy didn't _deserve you._ I mean, seriously, how can he just do that and then change his mind?"

  


_He doesn't deserve you. How could he._

_Her name is Natalia._

Feliks could almost feel their voices in his mind, poking at the back of his head like needles; or maybe he just had a headache coming. These thoughts and sounds and images were racing; they wouldn't leave him alone, no matter how much he wanted them to stop. He took a nap as soon as he got home, and when his mother woke him up, he felt more worn out and groggy than ever before, and his school uniform was completely crumpled.

All he could remember of his dream was the dim sunlight, that made the chapel's stained glass windows seem almost alive; the familiar, majestic marble statue of Mary behind the altar and her cold, fixed gaze on his back; the warm feeling of a kiss.

He could only remember this- but knew instantly what his mind was trying to recall.

  


It was complicated, and it was not something he could easily explain, for that seemed an afternoon like hundreds of others at first. He was at Toris' place, laying down on his bed as he absently scrolled down this article, filled with pictures of the new fall/winter high fashion trends. The actual owner of the room and bed, meanwhile, sat on the floor next to him, reading a book. Just as absently as he was scrolling, Feliks noticed, considering that Toris hadn't turned a single page of it in almost one hour.

A simple fall afternoon, spent enjoying each other's presence in comfortable silence, nothing new or out of the ordinary.

Then, out of nowhere, Toris had asked him what he wanted to do after high school now that they were seniors. Feliks thought about that for a second. Did he even have plans?

"I don't know, I think I want to be like, an actor. Or if that fails, I'll go on American Idol and become a singer! I mean, Sister Joan said I am the star of the school choir, so that might work, right?"

Feliks laughed at his own joke, but Toris seemed unimpressed with it.

His attempt to lighten the mood had failed miserably.

"Anyway, for real, I am probably going to take a gap year... to think it through, decide what I actually want to do. Who knows, maybe I could even go to college? And study theatre or something."

"I see."

There were a few minutes of awkward silence. Now, this was unusual; the way the same shared silence that made  him always feel comfortable and cozy and home had turned into something unnatural and strange.

Feliks, not knowing what to do, texted Elizabeta on Line, asking her for advice; and she promptly reminded him (damn, he didn't mean to be an asshole, but he always forgot) to ask Toris the same question back. Ask him what _he_ wanted to do after high school.

 

Feliks put his phone down and sat up, moving closer to the edge of the bed, next to where Toris was sitting.

"So what about you?"

Toris suddenly tensed up, like he was expecting his question to come.

"I want to go to college, I think..."

Feliks noticed the tension and started playing with his hair, something that always worked when Toris was feeling stressed for a test, or a social event. It helped both of them relax.

"Well, duh," he said, wondering why Toris was not outlining his college plans into details, like he had expected him to do. "like no one knew you were going to college, Mr. Nerd, Toris-straight-As!"

Toris didn't seem amused, nor he seemed to want to turn his head towards Feliks while talking to him. It was an unusual thing for someone always so concerned about politeness. Feliks wondered what kind of face he was making.

"...I think I want to be a history major, Fel.", he said, still looking at the floor.

For some reason, the tone of that sentence seemed way off.

"Well, that's almost what I expected you to say. That, or classic literature, to be honest."

"... But my parents want me to be a doctor. So I can inherit dad's studio."

 

And there it was. The silence, again.

So that was the problem. Having known Toris for such a long time, Feliks knew that his best friend had a tendency to worry too much, about absolutely everything. What he needed now was just a bit of pep talk, and then he'll be fine.

"Well, let me be blunt here," Feliks started, bumping his forehead on the back of his best friend's head. "but fuck what your parents say. I know you love them and all, but this is your life, and you should be able to choose your own path. Besides, I think you'd be like, the best teacher in the world, Tor. I mean it!"

 

It was then that it happened: Toris stopped staring at the floor, and turned his head to kiss him.

 

There was a moment of awkwardness; but as soon as they looked into each other's eyes, that seemed to disappear into thin air. It just felt natural for Toris to climb on the bed and continue what he had started, kissing his face and his lips, his hands stroking his hair so slightly that Feliks could barely feel it- he was gentle, never pushy, delicate like he was handling the most fragile and precious crystal glass in the world.

One hand slipped on his neck, and then stopped, like Toris was too afraid to go any further than that.

Feliks felt dizzy, almost feverish; he didn't really know what was going on or what prompted this; but god _had he waited_ for this moment to happen for _years_ now, and the adrenaline high and the look in his best friend- screw that, in his _lover's_ eyes made him feel so intoxicated, and good, that he never wanted this feeling to stop.

 

The sound of a door opening downstairs put an end to all of this; the voice of Toris' parents, who had just come home from work.

They both realized what was happening and while Toris was quick to almost jump off the bed and apologize, Feliks reassured him that there was no need to.

The tension that seemed long gone a second ago was back, as thick as ever; it seemed like nothing they could say could have made this any better. There was no time for a long talk; no way to condense what needed to be said in a few sentences. And, to be fair, too much anxiety on both sides to even bring it up.

Unsure on how to handle the situation, Feliks saw only one solution: _run_.

"My mom is waiting for me at home. Dinner must be ready by now... when did it get so late anyway?" he said, walking away from the bad to retrieve his jacket.

"Uh. Yeah. That's right." Toris muttered, his face white as a sheet, eyes staring once again at the floor.

"So yeah, um. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

Feliks left, saying hello and goodbye to Mr and Mrs Laurinaitis, who coldly said "goodbye" to him back (what was with that tone, anyway?); while he walked home, he couldn't think of anything, his head so full of emptiness that he thought it might explode. Unsure of how he should even be feeling in the current situation- ecstatic? worried?, or maybe, relieved?- he somehow found his way to his house, and then his bedroom. His mother wasn't home, so he could skip dinner without actually bothering to come up with an excuse.

He opened the window: the chill autumn breeze didn't seem to clear up the fog in his head, or slow down his heartbeat; looking at the sky, he couldn't even see the moon behind the clouds. Soon, it would have rained; the fog had started to form in the streets, too.

  


After a long night of restless sleep, he tried to make sense of the mess in his mind, but as he soon realized the situation was actually quite clear: they needed a long, serious conversation about their feelings. The problem was, despite his reputation as a chatterbox, Feliks was never good at actual, serious talk; especially not when his own feelings were on the stake.

At school, seeing Toris (always there early, reading the same book he was holding the day before- Anna Karenina, Feliks noticed) made his heart jump, and his stomach tie up in a knot.

"We need to talk", that's all he needed to say.

 _God damn it,_ he thought, _I can't do this!_

"You can't do what? Is there anything worrying you?"

Whoops. Thinking out loud again. The culprit - the one responsible for this emotional mess was staring  at him, waiting for an answer. Feliks couldn't tell, by the look on his face, if he was genuinely puzzled on what could be worrying him, or it was just an act.

"It's nothing," he said, "I'm worried about, uh, the choir rehearsal. I just, like, really don't feel like going this afternoon."

Toris seemed to accept that for an answer; he carried on the whole day as if nothing happened before. Between the two of them, he was always the more mature and "serious" one; usually, he would be the one wanting to sort this out as soon as possible. Alternatively, he would be the one to be obviously anxious- and Feliks expected, at some time in the day, to let go of this calm, collected attitude and nervously grab his arm, telling him that they needed to talk. He expected him to step forward; to make the first step, like he always did.

But nothing of the sorts happened. And so the days went on, with this ongoing tension running deep under the surface- a tension that no one else, not even Toris, seemed to feel but him, and a whole week passed.

Until that morning, something disrupted this seemingly quiet mood.

 

"Hey, Fel" Liz said, "we have big news today!"

Toris was blushing and hiding his face behind his hands, whispering something to her. "Please, Liz, stop, please..."

"Guess what? Our little boy Toris is all grown up! He apparently has a _crush_ on someone."

 

"Oh, really?", he said, trying his best to act surprised, and most of all, _act natural_.

They must have noticed that something was going on, because Feliks could feel his own face heating up, despite making his best effort to appear not emotionally affected by this; or maybe not, because Elizabeta's look didn't change, and Toris... well, Toris wasn't even looking at him.

If he was interpreting the signs in the right way, then he must be talking about him. So Liz knew that the guy he told her about in a text a few days ago was Toris. So, he didn't have to hide anymore!

But, most importantly: that meant that his feelings, that he had bothered to keep hidden, buried under a mountain of excuses and things untold for all this time, were actually reciprocated- how stupid he was to bottle up! And how close was happiness, within his reach, all along!

Felix could feel his own body float; he tightened his grip on the notebook he was holding, to hide the fact that his fingers were shaking in anticipation.

"Come on Toris, tell Fel about it! I mean, there's no need to be embarrassed!" Elizabeta encouraged him, with a strong, emphatic hit on his shoulder.

_Ouch, that must have hurt._

Toris looked up from his book, then down again, on his desk. He was clearly flustered, and he avoided Feliks' gaze like just a look would make him contract the black plague.

 

"Her name is Natalia."


	2. II.

> _Adoro te devote, latens Deitas,_
> 
> _Quæ sub his figuris vere latitas;_
> 
> _Tibi se cor meum totum subjicit,_
> 
> _Quia te contemplans totum deficit._

 

 

Feliks could still remember the day he met Toris for the first time;  it was the first day of middle school, and they were holding a special function for it in the school chapel, as a sort of entrance ceremony.

He had already gotten scolded _twice_ in less than one hour by a particularly persistent nun because his hair violated the dress code. He was familiar with the issue since he had been in catholic schools ever since he was old enough for kindergarten, but he stubbornly refused to cut it- because if you cut it you can't braid it, and it always took a long time to grow back, and it was such a bother; he was not really paying attention to the speech that was being held by one of the teachers, about the school, about Jesus, it was whatever.

It was then that the choir walked in front of the altar to sing, and Feliks noticed something.

There was another boy with long hair, just like his; and as soon as he took place, the sunlight that filtered through the stained glass of the chapel was coloring his face.

The window right to the choir represented the Pietà, and the morning sun was shining through the very core of it.

The red of the Lord's blood drops was hitting the boy's neck, almost violently. The pale blue of the Virgin's veil gently resting on his hair and ears.

For some reason, Feliks could not look away. It was like in that very specific moment in time, a miracle was happening in front of him; like that boy's soul was somehow shining through, and the light was coming from within him. His gaze was directed at the frescoes on the ceiling, like he somehow knew the words to the song without reading, or maybe it was God that inspired him, that spoke through him;  and Feliks wanted so desperately, for some reason, to reach out for him, to become a part of that light- something almost mystical, that he couldn't explain at first.

And while he listened to the choir singing _Adoro Te Devote_ , trying to discern which of the dozen of voices belonged to _him_ , something deep inside him somehow understood that on that day, he was falling in love for the first time.

With a sense of purpose and determination he had never felt in his life before, the first thing Feliks did after his first day of middle school was to sign up for the choir.

Sister Joan was psyched, because it was not everyday that a child actually volunteered instead of being forced by his parents to join; he would have needed a short audition since it was the first time he did this, but Feliks was confident that he could do it; he didn't spend all that time in his relatively short life singing along to Britney Spears for _nothing_.

The choir audition was not hard, but he got sent to the theatre laboratory "at least once a week", to work on his diction- which was a bother, but it meant that the first step of his plan had been successfully accomplished.

 

His body shaking in a hiccup, Feliks suddenly felt the need to distract himself from this particular memory while _Summertime Sadness_ played on his mp3 player for the fourth time; maybe, the _tenth_ time.

He reached for another tissue and wiped his nose quickly before heading downstairs to get some water; he told his mom that he had a cold, and so far, his puffy red eyes and runny nose had done nothing but help to not blow his cover- he didn't even have to bother hiding the evidence that he had been crying.

He had been home from school for three days now, which meant he had skipped choir practice twice, and that Liz kept blowing his phone with "Get well soon!" texts, alternated with cat memes and with -and here came the feeling of absolute dread- updates on Toris' _crush, or whatever_.

 

When he dragged himself to the kitchen, his mother was about to leave for her second job.

"Fel, how's my baby!", she hugged him so tight that he could just feel his ribs being crushed, "Look at your face, oh my god! Fel, have you been taking the medicine I gave you? Some aspirin, at least?"

"Yes, mom..."

Feliks had, in fact, taken the aspirin, but just for the terrible headaches this whole situation (and a diet of coffee and ice cream, and sleeping for most of the day) gave him.

"Well, you go rest in your bedroom now, ok? I have to go now... I can't kiss you goodbye or I'll catch your cold!"

She said that, but kissed him on the cheek anyway, before heading out to her car. Feliks just had a sudden realization: she was leaving for her second job. This meant he had been in bed, rolling and crying and cuddling his stuffed animals (and occasionally, his cat) for about four hours now. _Ugh_.

 

When he walked back upstairs, the sight of his own bedroom almost made him actually sick.

How much time had he wasted there, anyway?

He suddenly felt  the urge to do _something_. It was almost 5pm. That meant that the public library was open, and Toris was probably there.

(There comes the knot in his stomach.)

Liz had told him that he met her at the library, every day after school.

_If I go there now, I'm gonna see who this Natalia is._

Feliks tried to shake this thought away from his mind, but his curiosity had started getting the best of him. What did she look like? What was it that made Toris so interested in her, anyway?

After all, he wasn't _actually_ sick: it would take the effort of a ten minutes walk; he could sneak in there for just a few minutes, unnoticed (the library was a public space, after all) and get to at least see the face of the girl of Toris' _dreams_ , or _whatever_.

He hastily put on some clothes- it was a fashion crime, but a hoodie and sweatpants would be more than enough for this type of situation; he headed to the library, determined to get to know the _enemy_ from up close.

 

At the library, he already knew what Toris' favorite seat was; and unmistakably, there he was, the brown jacket of their school uniform, and his hair done up in a little ponytail- the familiar sight made Feliks shiver, and he felt goosebumps rising on his arms. Toris always tied his hair when he needed to focus; how many times had he seen him doing that when they studed together, he thought, feeling slightly bitter that someone else might be stealing away that knowledge, that simple and almost irrelevant detail, the intimacy it implied from him.

Feliks decided to hide behind the closest book shelf; he couldn't see anyone else sitting there, but he noticed an open notebook and a purse on the opposite side of the table.

He heard the sound of heels clicking from somewhere close, and moving even closer.

_Ugh. There we go._

 

"Ah, you're back! Did you find it?", Toris said, with a tone so sweet it was almost _irritating_.

"Shut up. We are in a library, in case you forgot.", was the cold reply he got.

She then sat down next to the bag, opening a heavy, old-looking book in front of her notes, flipping the pages to look for something with care and composure; something so simple, but her gestures were so elegant and slow, aristocratic.

Her blue eyes were fixed on the pages that were yellowed by time, completely immersed in what she was reading.

 

The young woman sitting in front of Toris was, Feliks had to admit, stunningly beautiful.

Tall (certainly taller than he was, and probably taller than Toris, too), slender, and with long, straight blond hair that looked too perfect, so carefully styled, that Feliks had the passing doubt that it might actually be a wig.

Writing something down in her notes now, she adjusted part of her bangs behind her ear with a little pin, and no, that was definitely not a wig. If she wasn't the source of all his current problems, Feliks would have, like, totally asked her about her full hair care routine.

But enough of that, it was time to get to the core of this issue: _was she actually a real blonde or did she bleach_? Because if she bleached it, then how...!

Feliks almost wanted to hit his head on the shelf. _Snap out of it already_!

 

The core of the issue was, actually, that he stood absolutely no chance against her. She was smart, elegant, older, and judging from the look of her outfit ( _her bag was chanel, for fuck's sake_ ) incredibly rich. Obscenely rich. What did he have to offer, compared?

But most importantly, she was a woman, and this was not a competition between equals; there was the fact that if that was Toris' preference (and Feliks tried to remember the conversations they had, over the years, but couldn't remember anything that could give him any relevant clues about who his best friend was into), he would probably never actually be interested in him _that way_ , despite what his action seemed to imply. There was a hundred and one things the kisses they shared could have meant- love, or maybe just a moment of vulnerability that got them too carried away.

But the following chain of events had one explanation, clear as a shard of glass: immediately after that, if Toris ever had any doubts on that, he decided that Feliks was not the person he wanted; he was not the person he loved. He wanted to move on.

And Feliks realized that it was useless to blame his own problems on Natalia; it wasn't that Toris had forgotten about him because he suddenly decided that he liked her best.

Toris _loved_ Natalia because he understood that he couldn't love _him_ at all. He probably never actually loved him, and never will.  

 

Leaving before either of them noticed his presence, Feliks  came home to an empty house, after walking for what were probably the longest ten minutes in his life.

He decided that he didn't have the energy to get to his bedroom; he collapsed on the old couch in the living room, and in the impact, he almost hit his head against his mom's favorite lamp.

A persistent, hollow feeling was getting ahold of him.

_You can cry now._

The tears didn't come up. It was almost like the fog in his brain had turned into a cloud, then into a storm, and now into something darker, something almost solid- something he could touch. Was it possible that he was just out of tears, after so many days of crying?

Maybe, after all, maybe there was something wrong with him.

 

He stared blankly at the ceiling, at the walls, at the blue roses of the flowery fabric of the couch, waiting for the tears to come, but in vain.

A picture of Mary crying, hanging on the wall of the living room, just couldn't get out of his sight. Her tears, pearls rolling down her porcelain face, couldn't get out of his mind.

 

When Feliks woke up (when did he fall asleep, exactly?), the familiar scent of reheated frozen pierogi was filling the house, and his mother's cheerful humming was coming from the kitchen.

When she saw him on the door, she smiled- and Feliks, for some reason, felt like he didn't deserve that smile.

"Fel, you woke up! Dinner is almost ready, dear."

"Pierogi?"

"Pierogi!", his mom confirmed with a grin.

Feliks sat down, absently browsing instagram on his phone for a few minutes, and the numerous accounts of cats he followed proved to be a worthy, effective distraction from his woes. When dinner was ready, his mother sat down with him, and scolded him for spending so much time on that "demonic device".

"So Fel, how come I haven't seen Liz in a while?"

His mother looked genuinely concerned.

"Um, I don't know. Guess she's not in the mood to come over."

_Or, well, actually I am not in the mood to see her; or anyone, for that matter._

"But you are still... friends, right?"

Feliks did not understand why his mother was so worried about this.

"Well, yeah. She texted me, like, a few minutes ago." (true enough, except Feliks had not replied to any of her texts. _Whoops_.)

His mom breathed out a sigh of relief.

"That's great! Tell her to visit us again whenever she likes. She's such a good girl! I mean, she is taller than you, but nowadays-"

" _Mom_!"

Knowing what she was trying to hint at, Feliks couldn't help but yell. _Whoops again_. What the hell was she thinking?

"Me and Liz are not dating. We are _friends_."

"Sure, sure!", his mother chuckled as she went to the fridge to reach for some cola. She obviously wasn't taking him seriously.

The silence after this conversation was awkward, and embarrassing. He usually would have started talking about the new season of Say Yes to the Dress, or about his theatre classes, or how he saw this bow collar that would look perfect on Princess Puffypants (or Princess Catherine, as his mom said, since she liked the name Toris picked for her much better); but for some reason, he couldn't come up with anything he could say out loud.

 

Silently, and anxiously, Feliks wondered what his mother would think if she knew he was gay.

He wondered how she hadn't realized yet- and wasn't sure if it was a blessing, or a curse.

Considering the simple fact that she went to church every sunday to listen to an old man yelling that "sodomy" is a sin, and that the very reason she worked two jobs was so that she could afford to send him to catholic school ("to learn about our values", she said) where priests were yelling at _him_ that “sodomy” is a sin, she probably wouldn't take the news very well.

He had never been particularly religious; as a child, at school and at home, he enjoyed hearing about the stories from the Bible, but to him it was never any more "real" than Cinderella, or the Twelve Swan Princes. Yet, to his mom, those words were sacred: and the priests' opinions, truth.

 

Would she still love him? Would she be angry? Sad?

_Would she cry?_

 

The thought of his mother crying made his stomach turn; he could finally feel his own tears coming up, now. He hadn't seen her shedding a single tear ever since dad had died.

Suddenly his mother, standing over the sink, looked so small and fragile; he felt the weight of all that she ever did for him and all she ever had to endure in her life on her back, and almost visualized it on her, crushing her down. He always looked up to her as a strong, resilient woman- a wonderful mother- but he never really stopped to consider how much she had worked hard to earn her strength. To build a life for the both of them. And what had he done, to pay her back?

Had he ever shown his gratitude to her?

Feliks couldn't get the image of her crying face out of his mind, of his sight, like a lucid nightmare.

 

"Mom."

"Yes, Fel?"

"Today, let me wash the dishes. Please go get some rest."


	3. III.

> _Alma Redemptóris Mater, quæ pérvia cæli_
> 
> _Porta manes, et stella maris, succúrre cadénti._

 

Even before the alarm could wake Feliks up at seven o'clock, Princess Catherine the Great Puffypants did the job just fine at 6:56, by sitting on his face.

He groaned, kissed the cat on her forehead before gently putting her back on the ground, and somehow managed to drag himself to his closet, where his school uniform was, washed and ironed and folded by his mom.

He opened the flowery curtains and the feeble light of the October dawn lit up his bedroom, making the salmon pink walls seem somehow colder, discolored. The atmosphere around him was unreal, almost like he was frozen in time. He pinched his own cheek to determine that no, he was not still dreaming; thus, he walked to the bathroom to get ready.

Feliks didn't know, he thought while brushing his teeth, what he would say to Liz.

Worse, he had no idea how to deal with Toris. Should he pretend he never heard anything, or that they never kissed, and continue as if none of this happened? He found the thought sickening.

Besides, he might have been an actor, but he was not a _liar_.

 

On the bus, he noticed that Toris didn't walk in at the usual stop. Actually as the ride went on, Feliks had the confirmation that Toris hadn't taken the bus that morning, at least not that bus. That nerd had probably woken up even earlier and was already at school, in class, revising for the algebra test (when was that going to be anyway? Next week?) and mentally organizing what he was going to study next. That was _totally_ going to be it. At least, he thought, he wouldn't have to deal with that for a few more minutes; he could collect himself, and let the chilly air refresh his thoughts for another moment.

Instead, as soon as the bus stopped in front of the school, he saw him, the source of all his woes, leaning on the statue of Saint Paul at the gate, looking around like he was waiting for someone.

_Is he waiting for me?_

No, of course not. He was probably waiting for Liz or something.

_To tell her all about yesterday afternoon, I bet._

Feliks could feel the acid reflux coming up from his stomach. His hands were shaking.

As soon as he stepped out of the bus, Toris looked at him: they stared at each other for a moment, both unsure what to do next.

When Feliks saw the slight movement that Toris made in his direction, it was enough to understand that he was going to come for him, and he froze; then suddenly, a bolt of electricity crossed through his body, a single thought crossing his mind.

 _Run_!

 

He knew that Toris was too afraid of breaking the rules to actually run after him and skip school; not that he ever did that before, either- at least, _not this way_.

After taking a few turns and making sure he was not being followed (Toris wouldn't follow him; but Liz? She _totally_ would, if she saw that) he settled into a small alley, leaning on a wall next to a trash dumpster to hide and catch his breath. He collapsed on the ground, wondering why did he have to be so unathletic.

As soon as he had collected himself, and covered himself in some more perfume (just to be safe) he stood up and left his (rather smelly) hiding spot. He checked his phone: one Line notification from Liz. Her text just read "WTF?", and he decided that he totally agreed with that sentiment. Also, it had somehow been one hour since school was supposed to start; how did time pass so fast? He couldn't just sit on the same sidewalk all day, so he decided that he should get going.

His uniform, he took note, was too recognizable to walk around undisturbed in that area, so close to the school; but it was too cold to take off his jacket. Thankfully enough, he knew the way to the closest Starbucks, and walked all the way there as nonchalantly as he could manage.

 _Well_ , he thought, _no one stopped me. The perks of being a great actor, I guess._

He ordered a caramel macchiato with extra caramel, and took the table as far from the windows as possible, contemplating the situation as he slurped the coffee (Toris would have objected his definition of said beverage as "coffee") from his cup.

He had fucked up. _Like_ , really bad.

It was not even that he skipped school; he ran away, acted like a child when Toris was clearly waiting for him, and probably wanted to talk. Like adults do; or anyone who has just a bit of common sense.

Maybe he could just have been a good friend, his _best friend_ ; be supportive of his new crush, like he was supportive of anything else he did, instead of behaving like a selfish dickhead.

In all honesty, his crush on Toris was pointless to begin with. Letting go of him would have been the wisest choice. But he just _had to_ fuck that up.

He laid his head on the table and sighed.

 

"Oh my god, are you ok?"

The voice was unfamiliar, but Feliks' heart skipped a beat anyway; what if he had been found out?

He quickly sat up to a presentable position, and reassured the girl standing next to him. She was wearing the green apron and a black polo. So, she was part of the staff there.

"Yeah, I just, uh, felt sleepy. How bad of me! Sorry about that. I was actually about to order another coffee. To feel, like, more awake."

"Oh, thank goodness! You just suddenly, um, did that, I was afraid you had fainted or something."

She smiled at him, and something about her face gave him a feeling of déjà vu. Had he already met this girl somewhere? He was pretty sure he had never seen her in the cafeteria staff.

She walked back to the cash register; but suddenly, she turned back and walked towards Feliks again.

"Hey, sorry,", she called for his attention as she got closer to the table, and leaned down to speak more quietly; "are you, by any chance, a student from the catholic school nearby?"

Felix felt his blood freeze in his veins. _Damn_. His cover had been blown.

"How... how did you know that?"

She gave him a strange look, like somehow he should have known the answer to his own question. "Well, your uniform..."

Feliks looked down. He had forgotten to take off his jacket. _Double damn_!

He was trying to come up with an excuse, but she spoke before he could think of anything passable.

"Don't worry, I am not going to call anyone on you! Sorry for making assumptions, but something is wrong, right?"

Feliks nodded, resigning to the fact that this starbucks barista seemed to have a really sharp intuition, and wouldn't leave him alone for some reason.

"Just take off your jacket and," she gestured to the single stall bathroom behind them, "I'll drop my cardigan in the bathroom, so you can wear it. My turn ends in about forty minutes, so wait for me."

 

The time passed and Feliks was trying really hard to resist checking his phone. He kept getting notifications (probably, texts from Liz) and there was a missed call that really scared him. He didn't want to know _who_ called him.

On the other hand, the cardigan that the starbucks girl gave him was warm and comfortable, and she even left a book with it, probably for the time he had to spend waiting.

_How thoughtful._

He flipped through the pages; it was just an old John Green novel. Did people still read this stuff? Looking at the girl, she did seem like the type to enjoy this kind of story. She was really tall, but other than that, she didn't particularly stand out. Her bob cut made her face look even rounder, and the contrast between her childish face and her tall, curvy body was kind of funny, in a cute way. Overall, she was plain, and she seemed to be a simple and cheerful person; definitely  the "mom" of her friend group.

He had his own reservations about the conversation that was going to happen; but at the same time, the thought of opening up to a stranger, who didn't know him and wouldn't judge him too harshly, was tempting.

"Hey, sorry for keeping you wait! This is on me."

Her voice interrupted his thoughts, as she took place on the seat in front of him, and handed him a cup of coffee.

"No big deal. Thank you for the cardigan... and for the coffee. You're too nice..."

"Oh, please, it was nothing! I'm sorry if I'm bothering you, but when I see someone feeling down, it's like I can't stop myself from giving a helping hand. My name is Sophia, by the way."

"Feliks."

"Ok, Feliks! Nice name. So what's your deal? Had a fight with someone?"

"More or less..."

"Love problems?"

Feliks gulped. _Sharp as a whip._ "Yeah."

 

He was surprised in noticing that it only took him a few minutes to explain something that had been making him feel like shit for at least _a whole week_ now. He omitted names and details, of course, but Sophia seemed to be interested in his story even without all that _saucy, gossipy stuff_.

"... and like, I ran away. Which was the stupidest thing I could have done, I know. And now I am here... and I'm pretty sure I ruined everything with him."

He laid his head on the table once again; this time, though, he felt a warm hand resting on his hair.

"Oh, Feliks, that sucks. This friend of yours was totally unfair to you; he should have made things clear from the start instead of leaving you in the dark like that."

"I know, right!"

"Tell you what, the thing you told me about the library reminded me of a funny thing that is happening to me. Maybe it will cheer you up!"

Feliks tilted his head up, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, sure, tell me!"

Sophia leaned forward on the table, resting her head on her hands. She took a sip of coffee before she began telling her tale.

"Well, actually... it's not happening to me, but to my sister. But gosh, she won't stop talking about it! So, my sister is a college student, and she goes to the library pretty much every day, just like your friend. And there's this guy who is, like, obsessed with her. He keeps trying to impress her with his antics, like translating the latin words on her anatomy books and whatnot. Can you believe that? As if someone who's actually studying it wouldn't know! Guys can be so annoying, am I right!"

Listening carefully, Feliks noticed that this situation was _way too familiar_ for it to be a coincidence. But he didn't want to interrupt, so he just nodded along while taking a sip of his coffee- which was not nearly sweetened enough, but it would have been impolite (ad stupid) to refuse a free drink.

"So yesterday, she finally told him off. She told him that if he didn't stop hitting on her, our brother would come and beat him up..."

"Oh my god...!" Feliks said, before he could stop himself. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt. Go on, please."

He had a really _bad feeling_ about this. Sophia didn't seem to notice his restlessness, and she went on with her rant.

"...But first of all, our brother lives all the way across the country now; and also, every time she mentioned this to him on skype, he actually told her that it'd be nice if she finally got a boyfriend!

But, of course this poor guy can't know that. He was so scared that he apologized and actually left the library altogether. He even forgot his algebra book on the table."

If he only had a feeling about this before, now he was like, definitely sure who this girl was talking about.

 

"Sophia."

"Yes?"

"My friend... I think that's the guy we are _both_ talking about. Remember? He likes a girl he met at the library. Her name is Natalia, and she's a med student."

She stared blankly into the distance for a few seconds, connecting the dots, before she came up with a really loud, " _No way_!"

Maybe her intuition was, after all, not that sharp.

For some reason, in that moment, that seemed like the funniest thing in the world to Feliks; all the café was looking at them, and he couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Oh my _god_ , Sophia, I can't believe this just happened! So she's your sister? She looks nothing like you. You have, like a totally different aura!"

"She is... peculiar, I suppose. She definitely stands out."

" _Absolutely_. Is that her natural hair color?"

"Oh, no!" Sophia pointed at her own hair, a dark, ash blonde bob. "She has my same hair color. She just dyes it to look more like our brother..." she said while she grabbed her phone from her pocket, looking for something in her gallery.

When she gave it to Feliks, on the screen there was a photograph with the two sisters, and a really tall, white haired man he had never seen before.

"Well, I see, but they don't look alike anyway. You guys are all really tall, though..."

"See? That's our brother... she is really attached to him. And when people say that they don't look like brother and sister, she gets really frustrated; so she decided to bleach her hair. But the color is way different anyway. Our brother is albino, so you can't really bleach your hair that light without actually _frying_ it."

There was something strangely satisfying in having all of this information, Feliks thought.

He and Sophia kept talking for another hour; he went to the cash register and offered her a coffee as a thank you, and got a strawberry and crème frappuccino for himself (with extra sugar, this time) before swapping phone numbers and heading out. Sophia took her book back, but told him that he could give back the cardigan another day, so he could pass by unnoticed for the day.

 

The time he had spent with Sophia completely changed his perspective on Toris' crush for Natalia; now he knew that he could make up for his own mistakes, or at least he could try.

If she had rejected him, that was probably what he wanted to tell him earlier that morning; he must have been upset, and wanted a shoulder he could cry on.

How thoughtful, venting about being rejected when he just basically rejected you.

Feliks waited sitting on one of the benches of the park near the school, and he swallowed up his own anxiety when he decided to finally reply to Liz's texts; the call he missed was apparently from her, trying to contact him during their morning break.

He told her everything he had been bottling up (he was an actor, but not a liar, especially not to his best friend); and while she feigned surprise at first, she admitted that she had a feeling that the guy he liked was indeed Toris.

But when he told Liz about his plan to forget all of it and give up on him, she told him she wasn't sure about that. To trust her gut. Feliks didn't know what she meant by that, but they agreed to meet late in the afternoon after she was done with volleyball practice.

 

When he saw the students coming out of the school gates, he decided to get closer to catch Toris and take him somewhere to talk to him.

If he could just be his friend, after all, that would make him happy- certainly happier than he would be, if their friendship would come to an end. If Toris still wanted to be with him, he would turn the other cheek; forget about his feelings, forget about that moment they shared.

But after all of the students seemed to be gone, there was still no trace of him.

Feliks was not sure what, exactly, was going on. Did Toris skip school? Did he run after him, and was he still looking for him? That sounded insane.

He grabbed the phone in his pocket to text him, but then a thought crossed his mind.

Choir practice; it was supposed to be that afternoon. And even though Toris had dropped out of the school choir as soon as they were enrolled in high school, he still came every time to watch, and wait for him.


	4. IV.

> _ O lux beatissima, _
> 
> _ reple cordis intima _
> 
> _ tuorum fidelium. _
> 
>  
> 
> _ Sine tuo numine, _
> 
> _ nihil est in homine, _
> 
> _ nihil est innoxium. _

 

Third row, sitting on the right end of the bench, on the left side of the chapel; Toris was there, like always, watching as the simple notes of the vocal warmups were filling the building.

Feliks' heart skipped a beat. He knew that this talk needed to happen, but he couldn't risk to be seen- so he had to wait until the choir practice was over. Plus, the thought of having such an intimate conversation in front of the other members of the choir was making him uncomfortable to say the least.

He sat behind one of the columns, hiding while he waited for all other people to leave the room, and rehearsing what he was going to tell Toris in his mind while everyone else was rehearsing the hymns.

_ I am sorry. I am sorry. I was a bad friend. It meant nothing. Just forget about it. _

But the more he tried, the more the words sounded unnecessary, nonsense in his mind; when it came to apologies, and to his own feelings, he was really bad at talking- and even  _ worse  _ at acting.

He remembered something, scattered pieces of an old fairy tale his mother used to tell him when he was a child; a girl who dropped pearls and gold and rubies with every word she spoke; her sister, whose tongue made her words turn into toads, and frogs. 

Ungraceful, and slimy; unforgivable, disgusting. 

 

When the choir rehearsal was over, the sun had started to set. 

Everyone had walked away, but Toris was there, still. His gaze was on the fresco behind the altar; his mind, probably lost in his own thoughts.

The sight of his face made Feliks hesitate- it was a feeling too familiar, a déja-vu of something he saw in a dream, the line of his nose and jaw in the darkness of the church and the dim light of a cloudy fall afternoon. 

It reminded him of everything that Toris ever meant to him, making his heart flutter and his head dizzy; it was overwhelming, and probably what he had wanted to avoid this whole time. And interrupting his contemplation almost seemed sinful in that moment. Forcing Toris to look at him, to speak to him, blessing him with pearls and jewels with each word.

_ Honestly, they all got it the other way round: I don't deserve him. _

 

"You should sit down, instead of standing over there. I was waiting for you, Feliks."

It was too sudden.

_ I thought he hadn't noticed me. _

In a second, all the phrases he had rehearsed for hours disappeared into thin air; he could only manage to nod, and quietly sit next to Toris. 

"Well, I wasn't sure if you would actually come, but... I had a feeling, somehow?"

Toris looked at him. He was smiling.

(But his hands were shaking.)

Feliks wanted, really wanted to apologize; for running away, for going silent for days without any explanation. But he didn't manage to say any of that. 

"This morning... did you want to talk to me?" 

Like toads, out of his mouth.

"Yes. I wanted to apologize. I've been thinking a lot... about you. About things."

_ Things _ ? That was like, the  _ vaguest  _ thing he could have said. 

"Apologize for what, exactly?"

Toris took a deep breath, his eyes now staring at his own hands that rested on his knees, his fingers entwined. Still shaking.

"Mind if I go on a bit of a rant? I've been rehearsing this all day, and last night... but, um", he paused, just to look back at Feliks, looking for a reaction -or maybe, for reassurance. "You know I just can't stop talking when I get anxious, right?"

Feliks didn't even need to say anything; he nodded, and moved closer to him; just in case he needed his shoulder to cry on. 

 

"Last week, or was it two weeks ago... I've honestly lost count of the days that passed; when I kissed you." 

Toris blushed; and Feliks felt his blood freeze in his own veins. 

_ Wow, straight to the point. _

"After you went away, I had a talk with my parents. I told them exactly what I told you: that I don't want to be a doctor. I want to be a teacher. To study history, and follow my own dreams, my own inclinations. And they... they didn't take it well, Feliks.

You should have heard how cold they were; about the plans they had for me. For my own good.

And about you: they said we are too close, and that you're a bad influence on me.

They asked me if we were dating, and I could see the anger in their eyes. I could not answer... I could not answer their question. They told me that I am a disappointment, and you're disgusting."

Feliks' impulse was, once again, to walk away; he was prepared for hearing about that girl- he was, however, not prepared for this. But just like he always did, it was almost like Toris could read his mind: at the slightest movement, he held his hand.

"Please, let me finish."

When he looked in Toris' eyes, he noticed the tears. Was that why he was not looking at him?

And yet, despite that, his gaze was so determined; there was more to this that he needed to hear.

"Yeah. Sure, go on."

Toris breathed a sigh of relief, and he continued what he was saying; not letting go of Feliks' hand.

"Feliks, I do not think that of you. Not at all. But when my parents told me that... part of me thought that if I just could be normal, and do what they wanted, then they would love me.

But if I did that, then how could I ever look into your eyes again? I am such a coward, Feliks. And I hope you can forgive me."

The tears that Toris was trying to hold back were now rolling down his face, and falling on Feliks' hand. After a moment of hesitation, without saying a word, Feliks wiped his tears, and used his free hand to join Toris'; 

"It's ok. You can go on."

"Thank you." He sniffled, and collected himself as much as he could; his hands' grasp now even firmer, yet gentle, as it always was. 

"I was just saying, that I thought I couldn't face you. I could never possibly deserve you, Fel. So how could I have done that to you? Kissing you like that, without your consent. You must think I am a pervert, now, and not just a coward.

And since you didn't mention it, I tried to move on, and be your best friend; as we always were."

 

"And then I met Natalia; and I don't know how, or why, but I thought that if I could just fall in love with her, and go to college with her, and be what my parents wanted me to be, then my life would get better. But Fel, I was wrong. All of that time..."

There was a long pause: Toris was hesitating, almost as if he knew that whatever he said now, it could never be taken back.

 

"All of that time, I was thinking of you. And the way your eyes looked on the day we met, at choir practice; and your voice when you sing, and the feeling of your hair between my fingers, and your lips when we kissed.

And I'm glad that Natalia showed me how obvious the right choice had been all along. 

Because now, I want to be someone you can be proud of. I will become a teacher; and if you want me, I'll be by your side."

 

It was like the drop that made the cup run over; Feliks could feel his heart overflowing with joy, and his eyes with tears. Oh god, he had never had his way with words in these moments.

"You always worry so much, really. It wouldn't matter to me. And even if you, like, actually hated me...it totally doesn't change that I like you."

As soon as he heard that, Toris looked at him, radiant, the light of the sunset passing through the church windows making him look ethereal, almost unreal; and his smile made Feliks want to engrave that moment in his heart, so he could never forget about it.

"Really?", Toris asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Yes."

"I love you, Fel."

It was then that Feliks let go of Toris' hands, just to place them on his face, and leaned in to kiss him.

All of the tension they had built up was gone; there were no words, no apologies needed. Just like the first time they kissed- and for all the questions they had for each other, the answer was love, as simple as that.

 

Behind them, behind the altar, the marble statue of the Virgin was watching with her cold, white eyes; but her gaze felt so unlike a judgement, and more like a blessing. 

 

***

 

It was a lazy Friday evening, and the red light was filtering through the flower curtains of the apartment; illuminating the living room and the kitchen, merged in just one room.

It was small, and Feliks kind of missed his own bedroom at home, but this place was closer to the campus, which was a big plus when he needed to stay there for his acting lessons until late.

The frozen pierogi would be ready in just five minutes. The time it would take Toris to come back from school, at least if he took the bus.

His phone rang; it was a text from Liz, asking if she could come over that weekend, and asking for updates on what was going on in his life. There was another text from his mother- a picture of Princess Puffy, looking sassy and beautiful as usual, wearing the new glitter collar he had bought for her the week before. 

Before the wave of nostalgia could hit him, the door opened.

 

"Fel, I am home! Is that pierogi you're making?"

"Yes! You know that this is like, my signature dish. My key to the title of Master Chef."

Toris laughed and rested his head on his shoulder, holding him from his back.

"Thank goodness, because I had a rough day at uni. My medieval history teacher has completely destroyed me and my work today..."

"Did you get a B on your assignment?"

"A-, but..."

"Sssh, Super Nerd, we don't need your useless lamentations."

Feliks put a hand on his boyfriend's mouth; in response, Toris kissed it.

"By the way, Liz is coming to visit us on Sunday. You should, like, think of something to cook for her. What's that soup you always make?"

"I thought you were the Master Chef in this house, Lord of the Pierogis."

"Lord of the Pierogis? Really, Lord of the Nerds?"

He kissed his boyfriend, the undisputed Lord of the Nerds; and he was so happy, that he didn't notice the pierogis burning on the stove.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks!  
> Thank you so much for reading so far! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.  
> I apologize for any mistakes I might have made and hope you will like the rest of this series, which is soon to come, as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, thank you for reading this far! I hope some of you didn't run away as soon as they saw the catholic school tag. This fanfiction is the first of a series of three, set in the same universe.  
> It's a light-hearted modern time au but I swear it has a lot more of depth into it than one might think!  
> To know more about it, or if you want to ask something, I recommend you check my catholic school au tag on tumblr!  
> https://gnostic-heretic.tumblr.com/tagged/catholic%20school%20au  
> If you like me and Jules' headcanons and you want to write something, feel free to do it! That would make me really happy!
> 
> So many thanks to my boyfriend for inspiring me to create this and encouraging me to post it, and to Sia and Zwi for being my beta readers!


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